


golden

by joshllyman



Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Mentioned Sawamura Daichi, Multi, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kozume Kenma, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: Keiji isn’t one to get nervous, but then again, Keiji isn’t one to attend balls, either, so perhaps this is a night for the unusual.Long gloves cover their arms, as is custom for the Unmatched, but their shoulders are displayed by the cut of their gown, which Kenma assures them is a good look. Kenma is a simple black sleeved gown, even though they’ve been Matched for two years now. They told Keiji once that they simply prefer to be covered so that they garner less attention. That makes sense to Keiji: Kenma’s match is written on their skin in bright orange and electric blue tones, colors that are hard to ignore. Keiji has a feeling that if their match were so ostentatious, they would cover up, too.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio/Kozume Kenma
Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789072
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	golden

**Author's Note:**

> remix for sportsfest: the beautiful art that inspired me is [ here ](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/27747.html?thread=3109475#cmt3109475)

Keiji isn’t one to get nervous, but then again, Keiji isn’t one to attend balls, either, so perhaps this is a night for the unusual. 

Long gloves cover their arms, as is custom for the Unmatched, but their shoulders are displayed by the cut of their gown, which Kenma assures them is a good look. Kenma is a simple black sleeved gown, even though they’ve been Matched for two years now. They told Keiji once that they simply prefer to be covered so that they garner less attention. That makes sense to Keiji: Kenma’s match is written on their skin in bright orange and electric blue tones, colors that are hard to ignore. Keiji has a feeling that if their match were so ostentatious, they would cover up, too.

“There’s really nothing to be nervous about,” Kenma says, and Keiji frowns at them. How they got so good at reading Keiji, they’ll never know. “It’s just a ball.”

“There’s new suitors here tonight,” Keiji says.

“Since when have you cared about suitors?”

Keiji doesn’t have an answer to that question, not exactly. Kenma is right that in the past Keiji hasn’t ever cared about suitors. These balls are a ridiculous exercise in extroversion for both of them, antisocial creatures that they are. Keiji prefers a walk in the gardens or the company of the waterfall nearby or a good book on a rainy day to the company of most people. They make exceptions for a few people, Kenma and their matches included (although Shouyou is exhausting even on a good day, he is kind and caring; Tobio is more quiet and reserved, except when he’s bickering with Shouyou, but they’re both good people and Kenma loves them very much). But for the most part, Keiji would greatly prefer to be alone.

It’s just a feeling they’ve had, boiling hot under their skin all day. It makes the gown and its many layers uncomfortable, and Keiji fears they’ll be so sweaty no one will approach them to ask for a dance. 

“Did you have a feeling of any sort?” Keiji asks, turning their head away from their reflection to look at Kenma. “Any sort of indication that you knew you were going to find Shouyou and Tobio before you did?”

Kenma blinks, considering. “I guess so,” they answer. “It wasn’t certain, but I remember feeling odd that day.”

Keiji turns back to the mirror and adjusts their right glove, which has fallen down a hair. “I feel odd today.”

Kenma hums, and Keiji fidgets with the neckline of their gown. “Here,” Kenma says. They hop out of the chair and cross the room with a golden flower that indicates their status. They pin it carefully to Akaashi’s gown. “Now you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Keiji replies. 

“Shouyou and Tobio should be here shortly,” Kenma says. “Are you going to be alright?”

Keiji looks down at the golden flower. They’ve never chosen gold before; usually their flowers are pink or red. They can’t say what made them change tonight, except that they simply knew it needed to be gold. “I’ll be fine.”

Kenma rests a hand on Keiji’s back. “We can leave whenever you’re ready tonight. And if you need Tobio to steal you away for a few dances, we can do that, too.”

“He’s sweet to offer,” Keiji answers.

Apparently summoned by the mention of his name, Tobio appears in the doorway. He prefers a half-skirt that flows behind well-fitted pants. Shouyou, just behind him, has gone full princess-mode and looks radiant in a pink gown big enough that Keiji is mildly concerned he may simply float away in it. 

“Hi, Keiji!” he shouts, waving a hand. “You ready to go?”

“Not yet,” Kenma answers. They produce three small crested crowns, one for each of them. Tobio has to bend over for Kenma to place it on his head, but the rose gold and pearls match all three of their outfits spectacularly. They really are a gorgeous Match. Shouyou offers his elbow to Kenma, and Tobio offers his to Keiji. 

“Now we’re ready,” says Kenma. “Lead the way, please, Shouyou.”

\---

So far, there’s been nothing spectacular or different about this evening to justify the way Keiji’s heart has been pounding uncomfortably in their chest all night. Kenma and Tobio are dancing across the room, and Shouyou is laughing nearby. Keiji has danced with several new and old suitors, but none of them have been appealing or interesting in any way, and there’s been nothing to indicate they’ve found their Match.

When asked to describe it, no one is quite able to articulate the feeling. It’s not burning or itching. It doesn’t feel like water or rock or sand, or any substance that anyone can seem to recall. It’s simply that when one touches their Match, the marks appear on their forearms. Of course, some go their whole lives and never get the chance to experience being Matched, and there are plenty of happily married couples whose marks are either nonexistent or unmatching. But Keiji was always afraid of falling in love with someone and then finding their soulmate after, or never finding their soulmate at all, or finding their soulmate in the wrong place and wrong time. So they simply hadn’t bothered to court or be courted outside of the monthly balls.

A slight commotion occurs when several men arrive late to the ball. One is tall, incredibly messy-haired, and doesn’t wear a gown at all, but a suit with no skirt. There are quite a few heads turned his way as he arrives. Keiji feels whispers will certainly be following him all night. Beside him, there’s a man in a beautiful white gown with a sleeved jacket. White and black mix together in his spiked hair, and he has golden eyes that Keiji can see all the way across the floor. It’s him that Keiji finds themself watching. Their eyes skim over the others who enter with them, but no one sticks out the way the golden-eyed man does. 

Keiji runs a finger over the petals of their flower.

It’s not like them to seek anyone out to dance, though, and they’d rather not be the subject of gossip until the next ball. All they can hope is that their intense gaze will be enough to stir the man to approach.

It’s not easy, catching his attention. He seems to engage with anyone and everyone, whoever happens to be closest to him at the time, all the while wearing a brilliant smile. His friend is nearly as social, and Keiji can’t manage to catch his attention, either. Keiji is certain their glare is boring a hole into both of them, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference.

“Kenma sent me over here,” Tobio says, and Keiji jumps a bit at his appearance, not having heard him approach. “They said to stop staring and dance with me.”

Well. At least someone noticed. Keiji sighs as they accept Tobio’s hand. 

Tobio is an excellent dancer, having been formally trained at some point in his past. Keiji is certain the two of them are striking together, and while no one who knows them pays them any mind, Keiji can’t help but feel the eyes of the newcomers on them. If they show off a bit more than usual as they’re twirled safely in Tobio’s arms, well. That’s between them and Tobio.

Still, it takes another song before they’re approached, and even then it’s not the man they were hoping would come over.

“Tetsurou Kuroo,” says the man in the suit. “May I have the next dance?”

Keiji hides away their sigh as they accept his hand. There’s still no change, no feeling of being Matched. 

“Keiji Akaashi,” Keiji says as he leads them to the floor. “Where do you come from?”

“The far side of the river,” Tetsurou answers.

“You’re far from home.”

“It’s hardly home anymore.” Tetsurou smiles gracefully. “We’re looking for a new place to settle and heard of your customs here in this part of the country. They’re fascinating, to say the least. Where do they come from?”

“I’m afraid you’ll learn more from a history book than you can from me,” Keiji replies. They know some of the history, but they don’t care to explain it only to have it be ridiculed. “These balls aren’t exactly my favorite event.”

“Why is that?”

Keiji smiles. “I’ve been told I’m not the mostly friendly of the Unmatched.”

Tetsurou laughs. “You’ve been perfectly hospitable to me.”

“Perhaps because you, yourself, are also quite interesting, Tetsurou Kuroo,” they answer. “You heard about our customs but either didn’t hear about the traditional dress or chose to ignore the traditions altogether.”

“I’m not big on rules, to be honest with you, Keiji,” Tetsurou answers. “My friend Koutarou heard about your gowns and jumped on the chance. I decided I would be more comfortable in a suit.”

“Your friend Koutarou. Is he the one with the golden eyes?”

“You saw those from that distance?”

“They’re quite hard to miss. Tell me more about him.”

Tetsurou smirks. “Ask him yourself.”

Keiji blinks. “No, that’s alright, I--”

“He hasn’t stopped talking about you since we walked in,” Tetsurou says. “In all honesty, he’s the one who sent me over to ask you to dance. He’s experiencing a sudden and extremely uncommon bout of shyness.”

The music ends, and Keiji and Tetsurou stop right there in the middle of the floor. 

“He saw me?” Keiji asks.

“I think you’re the only one he’s seen,” Tetsurou replies. He offers his hand to Keiji. “Come introduce yourself. I promise he won’t bite.”

Keiji finds themself nodding and taking Tetsurou’s hand. Their heartbeat is roaring in their ears as they approach. Koutarou’s golden eyes turn from another member of his party directly to Keiji, and he smiles. It’s a different smile than he’s been wearing all night: still bright, because Keiji doesn’t think he can be anything but bright, but smaller, shyer, and maybe only for Keiji themself.

The distance between them seems to close all at once. Keiji finds themself directly in front of him and can’t think of a single word to say.

“This is Keiji Akaashi,” Tetsurou says, evidently amused. “Keiji Akaashi, this is Koutarou Bokuto. Kou, try not to talk their ear off. I’ll see you kids later.”

Tetsurou waves before disappearing through the crowd. Keiji and Koutarou stare at each other. Keiji is only faintly aware of their face and worried that they might not be smiling, or worse, that they’re actively frowning, and they’re attempting to fix that when Koutarou opens his mouth.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Koutarou says. Keiji would be inclined to disagree but his voice doesn’t invite any room for disagreement. He’s entirely sincere. “And, like, we’ve been traveling for a while so I’ve seen a lot of people. Like, there was this man we met a few weeks ago, back closer to the river, and he had these incredible thighs, you know? He was so big and strong, and I think Tetsu really liked him, and he was beautiful, you know, but not in the way you’re beautiful. You’re like the moon, or maybe a star, or something really, really beautiful. I’m doing the thing Tetsu said not to do.”

“You are,” Keiji says quietly.

“Would you...like to dance? I can try to be more quiet.” Koutarou scratches the back of his head.

“I don’t mind the talking,” Keiji answers honestly. “And...yes, I’d like to dance.”

Koutarou’s smile splits his face, and he offers a hand to Keiji.

It’s not like anything they’ve ever felt. It’s not like water, or sand, or stone, or fire, or any other substance they can recall. It’s maybe all of those, all at once, like they’re jumping into the lake below the waterfall and coming back up for air and sitting around the fire and laying on the rocks near the shore. It’s the reassurance that this,  _ this,  _ is the moment they’ve been waiting for, the singular, inevitable moment of chance. It should be overwhelming, but it isn’t. It’s just the quiet confidence that when they peel away their gloves, their arms will be covered in the marks of the Matched.

“Golden,” Keiji says. 

“Oh, wow,” Koutarou whispers.

Time doesn’t slow around them, and the whole world doesn’t stop to look, but maybe it should. Because they’re two strangers in one moment, and in the next, they’re partners, for this dance and possibly for life.

“Come dance with me,” Keiji says. “Tell me about yourself.”

Koutarou isn’t a talented dancer the way Tobio is, and he’s not a gifted conversationalist the way Tetsurou is. But the dance is the best dance Keiji’s ever had, and they find themself laughing quietly in Koutarou’s arms as he relays stories of his travels to them. He lifts their arm up and catches Keiji’s eye, and the smile dances away from his face for just a moment, replaced by something so tender, so soft, that Keiji finds it hard to breathe.

On the next turn, they twirl themself into his chest.

“Would you mind taking this flower off my gown?” they ask quietly. “I won’t need it now that I’ve got you.”

The music ends, and Koutarou removes the flower with shaking hands. Keiji feels eyes on them as he does, curious and watching.

“Do you mind if I remove my gloves as well?” Keiji asks.

Koutarou shakes his head. “I’d...like to see your mark.”

“I’d like to see yours, if you’ll take off your jacket.”

Koutarou fumbles with the button, clearly nervous, but Keiji reaches up to help him out. When the jacket is pulled away, there are black, curved, waving lines covering his forearms. Keiji runs their fingers along them.

“Your gloves,” Koutarou says. “It’s only fair.”

“Would you like to do the honors?”

Koutarou nods eagerly. He tugs the gloves away.

They hear a few gasps as they’re revealed. Keiji realizes, looking at them, that they’d been wrong earlier. Kenma prefers to keep their marks covered because they know they’ll attract every eye in the room with the orange and blue. Keiji knows that they won’t be able to escape stares now, wherever they go, but they already know they don’t mind.

Their marks are golden.

**Author's Note:**

> socials at joshllyman.carrd.co


End file.
